


just say "no" to parties

by princessofmind



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Kink Meme, M/M, Seven Minutes In Heaven
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-10
Updated: 2015-07-10
Packaged: 2018-04-08 14:15:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4308252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princessofmind/pseuds/princessofmind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Hey, hey,” Nishinoya said, smacking the table with his open palm to get as many people’s attention as possible. “We should play a game, or something.”</p><p>Really, he should have taken the opportunity to get the hell out of dodge while he could.</p>
            </blockquote>





	just say "no" to parties

**Author's Note:**

> For the Haikyuu!! kink meme. The prompt was for yamaguchi/tsukishima, seven minutes in heaven. To view on the kink meme, click [here](http://hqkink.dreamwidth.org/1761.html?thread=16097#cmt16097)!

Parties were, as a general rule, a bad idea.

Kei wasn’t the kind of person who enjoyed going out just for the sake of going out. Why voluntarily subject himself to the stupidity of his teammates when he could just as easily stay home? But Tadashi, on the other hand, actually liked going to these functions, and every once in a blue moon, he could convince him to tag along (usually through bribery, or being so obnoxious that it was the only way to get him to shut up).

Tonight was one such event, and they were at the Tanaka residence with the bulk of their team, snacks strewn all over the low table in the living room and people sitting on every available surface. None of them had been drinking, Saeko wasn’t that easygoing, but everyone kind of got a little slap happy after sitting around and drinking copious amounts of caffeine and shoving sugar by the fistful into their mouths.

“Hey, hey,” Nishinoya said, smacking the table with his open palm to get as many people’s attention as possible. “We should play a game, or something.”

“Knowing you, it’s going to be something gross,” Kei grumbled from where he was sitting in the corner and sipping the same iced coffee he’d had all evening.

“It’s not gross,” the shorter boy squawked. “It’s a classic, a classic.”

“What is it?” Yachi pipes up, her eyes all big and round and curious. She’s no Kiyoko, but she certainly gets Noya and Tanaka’s attention.

“It’s called seven minutes in heaven,” Noya says, which draws a collective groan from at least half the people in the room. “And it doesn’t have to be gross. It’s really funny, actually, like that time Daichi and Asahi-“

A box of some kind flies across the room and nails him in the forehead, and Asahi looks like he’d be crawling under the table if he thought he could fit. “I thought everyone had very clear instructions not to talk about that,” Daichi says, his eyebrow twitching.

Hinata and Yachi look beside themselves with curiosity, but they also aren’t stupid enough to tempt fate and try to weasel it out of someone. Kageyama, who is occupying the third space on the couch next to them, scoffs in barely contained disgust. “It sounds stupid. I’m not playing.”

“Oh?” Tanaka’s attention swivels from Asahi to Kageyama, holding his hand over his mouth as if to hide his laughter. “Don’t tell me you’re scared.”

Kei kind of wants to groan at how, predictably, that’s more than sufficient in getting Kageyama to sit on the floor at the table with everyone else, although predictably Kiyoko strictly bans bother herself and Yachi from playing (much to the obvious distress of Tanaka and Noya, like they didn’t see it coming at all). The circle around the table is a bit lopsided, since Tadashi is sitting on a cushion near Kei and doesn’t really want to move and they’ve kind of half-assedly attempted to keep the shape open enough to force him to participate (ha).

Tanaka shoves all the snacks onto the floor with a sweep of his arm (ignoring the mess) and drops an empty bottle of tea on the newly cleared space. “Let’s start with Noya,” he declares, prompting the other to scoot forward and give the bottle a spin. It looks like there’s probably a way to cheat with this, but since the object of his affections is sitting on the couch watching with a blank look, he doesn’t really have a reason to.

The capped end of the bottle ends up pointing at Suga, and Noya seems to be creepily acquainted with which of Tanaka’s closets would be the best space for this. Since she isn’t participating, Yachi is left in charge of the timer, tapping her phone and calling out to them to “gooooooo~!”. There’s probably about forty seconds of silence, some rustling, and rather abruptly, the sound of Noya’s shriek is accompanied by the sound of someone’s body smacking against the door.

“Oh my god,” Daichi says, dragging his hand down his face.

Kei wants to go home.

After that, they don’t last two more minutes before Noya comes stumbling out, face pale and accompanied by a rather serene looking Suga.

“Suga is terrifying,” he whimpers, and that’s all the explanation they get.

“Yamaguchi, you’re next,” Tanaka says, holding the bottle out gravely, like it’s a sword or something. “We always go clockwise.”

Tadashi was sitting next to Noya, so it only made sense, but that didn’t mean he was automatically participating. This was the sort of thing he wasn’t sure if his friend would participate in, because there was a limit to how much stupidity he was willing to entertain. But apparently the threshold for the evening hasn’t been met, because he takes the bottle, scooting forward until he can place it on the table and give it a spin, bottom lip caught in his teeth as he watches.

The bottle seems to be coming to a stop on Hinata, but Suga stretches his legs out with a yawn, jostling the table and causing it to roll until it points right at Kei.

Wow, subtle.

“Ehh, that’s not fair,” Noya whines. “They know each other too well, they’re not going to do anything interesting.”

“Don’t just assume I’m going to participate,” Kei snaps, eyes narrowed behind his glasses.

“You have to,” both Tanaka and Noya say at the same time, and if he wasn’t already backed up to the wall, Kei would back away from the determination in their eyes.

Tadashi is looking at him kind of funny, trying to pipe up and say “uh, guys, he’s not really playing”. Predictably, he’s pointedly ignored, and there are two bodies coming at him like they fully intend to bodily pick him up if they have to. That is so not on his list of things to do today, so he at least stands up in order to keep them from trying to lift him and dropping him. This way, all they really have to do is keep pushing at him until they get him in the closet, stepping aside only long enough for Hinata (why did he join in? asshole) to deposit Tadashi inside as well.

“Have fun you two!” Tanaka crows, slamming the door with much more gusto than necessary, leaving them alone in the dark.

It’s not an overly large closet, and there’s coats pressing against his side and boxes digging into the backs of his knees. The temperature is warm, not uncomfortable yet, but there’s definitely the potential for it to become stifling before their time is up. It smells like dust, stale and stagnant, but standing as close together as they are, at least he can smell Tadashi’s shampoo too.

There’s some shuffling, and in the corner of his vision, he sees a square of light bloom from Tadashi’s phone, casting eerie shadows on his friend’s face, but at least now he isn’t blind. His friend is looking at him in the same way he was outside, eyebrows crinkled and his mouth pulled down in what was an endearingly small frown.

Kei realizes, belatedly, that he’s breathing slow and deep, actively forcing himself to keep his inhales and exhales even, tension making his neck and shoulders feel uncomfortably tight as he looks down.

“I’m sorry,” Tadashi says, and his voice gives him something else to focus on. “You’re still claustrophobic, aren’t you?”

“It’s fine.” But the lie is a bad one, since his voice is clipped and sharp and unhappy. “It’s only for a few minutes.”

“Are you sure?”

Tadashi is half-way leaning on him in the confined space, but thankfully, it doesn’t make his nerves worse. Crowds of people never make him panic, but small, dark spaces really get under his skin. His mother told him that when he was still little, probably too little to remember, Akiteru and him had been playing hide and seek, and he’d gotten stuck in the closet. His brother had gotten distracted by something, and no one even realized he was gone until he started crying. Mostly it’s an inconvenience at most, but this is a very small, very dark, very unfamiliar place that he’s more or less been bullied into, and he just wants to get out.

“I don’t want them to find out,” he mumbles, one of his hands resting on Tadashi’s hip. “I don’t think any of them are mean enough to like, push me in a locker or something, but I’d really rather not give them the ammunition.”

“We could just tell them that I’m the one who got scared,” Tadashi says, smiling up at him. “I don’t mind.”

“Don’t be stupid,” he answers immediately. “It’s my problem, not yours.”

Nobody really picks on Tadashi for anything, he’s far too sweet and genuine for that, but he doesn’t like the thought of the other taking on his weaknesses like that.

“Tsukki is nice,” he murmurs, wrapping one of his arms around Kei’s waist and reaching up with his other hand to rest his fingers against the pulse point in his neck. “Here, match your breathing to mine.”

“I’m not nice,” Kei denies, familiar disgust tinting his voice. “I just…don’t like the thought of them giving you a hard time for something that I should deal with on my own.”

Certainly, it’s gotten better as they got older, but it’s hard to forget how they met, how often Kei still had to tell people off even once he’d established himself as a friend and something of a guardian. It was hard to forget how often he cried, when he was still trying to come into himself and learn how to ignore how cruel children could be. No one on their team would do that to him, and Tadashi himself wouldn’t stand for it any longer, but the protectiveness was such a part of his personality that he didn’t know how to turn it off.

“Mm, well, let me look out for you this time, then,” he says, and the phone is held in the hand wrapped around his middle, the light a bit more muted now to the point where Kei can’t really see his face. But he doesn’t really need to, since they’re so close together, his arms now settled over Tadashi’s shoulders and he breathes in and out in steady rhythm.

It’s still too dark and too cramped, but it’s…nice, to be this close together, their chests moving in tandem, Tadashi’s long fingers still hovering over his neck to track the gradual calming of his heart. That single point of contact feels more intimate than all the other places they’re touching, but surprisingly, it doesn’t make him uncomfortable. Honestly, he doesn’t think Tadashi could do anything that would make him uncomfortable.

“Tsukki,” he says, voice carrying a teasing lilt. “You’re calming down, but I can hear your brain going a thousand miles an hour. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine,” he insists, kind of leaning against one of the boxes to better support himself, and it has the added bonus of reducing some of the height difference between them. “I’m not freaking out, but can you honestly expect me to be comfortable in this situation?”

Tadashi makes a contemplative noise, his fingertips smoothing up his neck to brush against his jaw, and while it’s bright enough for him to see the soft smile on his face, the uncrushable fondness his eyes, he finds himself irked that he can’t see the splash of freckles across his cheeks.

“Do you want me to distract you?” he asks, and while his tone is still light, there’s something else there. Kei isn’t well versed in emotions, not even a little bit, but even he isn’t stupid enough to miss the meaning behind the way his fingertips touch softly at his cheek, like he’s touching something delicate and priceless and irreplaceable.

He doesn’t trust himself to speak around the lump in his throat, so he nods instead, a barely there movement that he’s sure Tadashi feels more than he actually sees. And he was expecting something to happen immediately, sudden and surprising, but no, instead he just keeps touching his face, smoothing over his jaw and the bridge of his nose, jumping over the frames of his glasses to brush the hair from his forehead.

Lips, dry and a little chapped but still warm, follow his fingers, brushing his forehead and cheek before getting anywhere near his mouth. It’s all soft whispers against his skin, making his heart feel full and the thoughts swirling around his head grind to a complete hault.

And the first brush of their lips is short, just a breath of contact, but he comes back for longer each time, tilting his head to keep Kei’s glasses from digging into his face. Tadashi’s fingers settle at the nape of his neck, gentle pressure showing him where and how to tilt his head, and that instinctual, protective, jealous part of him wants to know how he’s so damn good at this.

At the first brush of his tongue, Kei opens his mouth without a second thought, and he can taste sugar and chocolate and a hint of bitter coffee clinging to Tadashi’s tongue and the backs of his teeth. It’s not something he’d consider hot, but it’s sweet, like syrup, and he makes a soft, appreciative noise in the back of his throat.

Tadashi kisses him carefully, but with the familiarity that can only come from knowing each other for so many years. His thumb rubs small circles against the back of his neck as he licks the roof of his mouth, and Kei kind of hates how much he feels like just swooning.

The phone in his hand give a little rumble, and he’s really too sluggish and content to startle at the sudden sound. It was probably a text, but instead of looking at it, Tadashi just kisses him slow and close-lipped, returning to those soft, chaste little brushes of their lips that started this whole thing. It makes him feel like they’re winding down, but Tadashi doesn’t want to just pull away with a cartoonish smacking sound and leave.

Fingers brush against his sensitive lips, and it prompts him into opening his eyes. Tadashi is so red that it’s kind of a comical counterpoint to how smooth he’d been acting, and it makes Kei snort on a laugh. “Okay?” he asks.

“Yeah,” Kei responds, and his voice sounds a little deeper than usual, but not panicked or uneasy or tight. “Uh, more than okay, really. Thanks.”

Tadashi beams, and it makes his heart do something a little uncomfortable in his chest.

“Did someone text you?” he asks, trying to draw attention away from the uncharacteristically open comment he just made, and thankfully, Tadashi lets him.

“Suga,” he answered with a self-conscious clearing of his throat. “He told me that our time is almost up.”

The image of Suga smacking the table with his leg comes back to him. “He did this on purpose.”

Tadashi is blushing even harder, if that’s possible. Hmm. It looks like he’s going to need to have a conversation with their vice-captain.

There’s a commotion outside, Noya and Tanaka calling obnoxiously that they’re coming to let them out, that they should stop anything indecent that they’re doing unless they want the whole team to see them.

Kei leans up, kissing Tadashi’s cheek before letting his arms fall back to his side. “Don’t wait for us to get locked in a closet, next time.”

Surprise flits across Tadashi’s face, but it blossoms into a purer kind of happiness than he feels like it should be possible for someone like him to ever give someone.

“Congratulations,” Noya and Tanaka crow, and Tsukishima kicks both of them in the shin on his way back to his corner.

“Don’t be disgusting,” he says, folding himself back into his slightly defensive position, picking up his now warm drink and taking a sip. “You’re the ones who said nothing interesting was going to happen, so pretending to be smug is stupid.”

They both look quite deflated at that, which makes Tadashi laugh. “Sorry, sorry!” he says as he settles back down.

It’s a bit different from how they were sitting before, because Tadashi’s back is leaning against the leg Kei has draw up towards his chest; a relatively small point of contact, but still present. Wisely, those few who do notice, choose not to comment.  



End file.
